She laughed and giggled as he carried her to the big armchair and settled in with her on his lap. “Whatcha doin’?” he asked.

“Daddy’s working on getting me a mommy.”

The book was clearly forgotten.

Thatcher’s red brow went up, and he looked over at me. “Is that so? Who’s the lucky lady?”

I wanted to give him the middle finger but not in front of Claire.

She shrugged her tiny shoulders. “Don’t know. Earlier he told Miss Kelsey and Seesaw he was working on it.”

Alice always said little teapots had big handles, and while the saying was ridiculous, Claire heard everything and filed it away. It was tricky now, but when she was a teenager, I knew I was going to be in big trouble.

“Well, I have a feeling Miss Kelsey’s around to stay,” he told Claire. I had to agree with him. Sawyer was keeping her. “She loved the puppies earlier, remember?”

Her eyes lit up with childish glee. “She did!” Her face morphed into a frown. “But Miss Kelsey’s not going to be my mommy. Who’s going to be my mommy?”

I gave Claire the look. I was not going to tell a five-year-old my plans, not only because she couldn’t keep a secret, but because I didn’t want her to get too eager for something that might not happen. I hadn’t brought any women around the ranch on purpose.

“He’s keeping her a secret, I think,” Thatcher said, tickling Claire. “I’d say she’s got him all tied up.” He smirked and I glared at his joke.

“That’s silly.” She giggled. “Daddy doesn’t need to tie anyone up. He’s got handcuffs since he’s the chief!”

I could feel my cheeks heat. Fuck me, I wasn’t going to live the night before down.

Thatcher’s lips were twitching as he tried not to laugh.

I’d gotten free of my bed by rolling onto my stomach, gripping the slat, and pulling it loose. I had a sore shoulder and a headboard that looked a mess as a result. After, I’d gone downstairs to get a drink and ran into Thatcher, who’d been raiding the fridge. He’d seen Sarah leave, and I’d had to tell him the fucking mess. After Sawyer being kneed in the nuts and me getting handcuffed to my own bed, I had to wonder if we had to hand over our man cards.

Thatcher had only stopped laughing when I’d punched him in the arm and showed him the paper Sarah had left with me. He knew who Claire’s mother was. Knew I wasn’t her biological parent.

“Will you tuck me in, Uncle Thatch?” Fortunately Claire’s attention was quickly swayed.

He gave her a bounce on his knee. “Sure. Go up and brush your teeth, and I’ll be up.”

She popped off his lap and stood before him in her pink pajamas, cocked her head, and set her hands on her hips. “I already brushed.”

He leaned in and grinned at her. Bopped her on the nose. “Good girl. I’m going to count, and let’s see how fast you can get in bed and under those covers.”